Embers
by ElwynZ
Summary: His Empress murdered. Her daughter kidnapped. His name ruined. His body broken. This is the story of an ember that refused to die.


_"Yes! He's killed the Empress!"_

Corvo Attano, formerly Lord Protector, awoke with a start in his dimly lit cell.

 _"Tomorrow you will be executed. But it's for a good cause. This country needs good leadership now…"_

The Serkonan by birth lay on the dank floor of his cell for a moment, listening to the rats' squeaking. His normally tall, imposing form had been reduced to an unimpressive limp mass by his chains - both physical and emotional.

 _"Corvo… it's all coming apart. Find Emily. Protect her. You're the only one…you'll know what to do. Won't you? Corvo…"_

Chains clanging, Corvo slowly and deliberately stood, legs still shaky from his last session with the Royal Interrogator. Though he'd never admit it, to his captors or himself, the torture was taking a huge toll. He'd suffered through months of it without giving an inch, but he feared that, given a few more weeks, they would finally break him.

The loudspeakers of the prison blared to life.

 **"Attention. Tomorrow's execution will be restricted to the personnel assigned to the event and approved dignitaries only."**

Oh. Of course. It won't come to that.

When Corvo was first appointed to Lord Protector by the Empress, against the advice of almost every aristocrat and nobleman in parliament, he had not feared death. He was young, and eager to prove himself. Skilled, yes, but reckless. He would throw himself head first into every situation, chasing down would-be assassins and threats with unnecessary zealotry. As both he and his charge matured over the decades, they grew not only as Empress and Lord Protector, but together. It was this change that brought about a startling realization to Corvo - he had finally found reason to live, both in Jessamine and her daughter.

And now, it was all gone. Jessamine dead, Emily missing, and his name dragged through the mud and gutted as if it were a moaning leviathan hanging from one of Dunwall's many whaling ships.

He always knew he'd die somehow, but he had always imagined his end to be honourable…that he would die doing what he had devoted his life to doing - protecting Jessamine.

And, he reminded himself, he had failed at that.

Perhaps it was fitting, then, that he be punished for his failure. Many emperors and empresses had had Lord Protectors in the past, but never before had one been assassinated…

In frustration, both at himself and his line of thought, Corvo banged his head against the unforgiving concrete wall.

He would die tomorrow. He would march out into the yard, kneel before the executioner. He would then hear his charges; each word a physical strike against him, each sentence stinging like a lash, each permeating pause another reminder of his failure.

The guard would raise his pistol, fire. And Corvo Attano would be dead.

That is how it would be. _And that,_ Corvo told himself, _would be what I deserve._

But no matter how often he repeated the words to himself, no matter how often he dreamed of the Empress only to wake up feeling empty and dead and guilty, there was a part of him that yet burned, no matter what others (and himself) had done to smother it.

A burning ember of hope that refused to die. An ember of vengeance that might yet light the fire that had once made Corvo great. A determined ember; one that could form something great - if only there were something to feed it, give it direction.

The door to his cell slid open with a grating creak.

"You should eat, Corvo. This meal comes from a friend."

Such things as proper form had been forgotten long ago. Corvo scrambled towards the food, ravenous. It was only after he had completely devoured the stale bread that he saw the note.

* * *

 _Corvo,_

 _Who we are is irrelevant right now. Just know that we have faith in you._

 _Here is the key to your cell. Once you're out, head for the prison's Interrogation Room. Take the explosive there and plant it on the outer door. When the bomb goes off, run. Make for the river and lose yourself in the sewers. You'll find some useful gear stashed there._

 _One of the prison guards will leave a weapon just outside your cell._

 _And good luck. We'll need you alive and well for what's to come._

 _-A friend._

* * *

And the ember, having weathered sorrow and loss, betrayal and lies, dishonor and treachery, once again burst into flame.


End file.
